


as you breathe out (and i breathe in)

by chocobos



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, SO MUCH FLUFF, Shotgunning, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 12:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: "Yuuri~" Viktor coos, "Look what I found!"It takes a few moments for what Viktor's holding to come into focus, but when it does, Yuuri's cheeks flush."Why are you holding abong?" Yuuri blurts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ya, i have no excuse for this lol. i got the mental image of them shotgunning stuck in my head and it wouldn't leave until i wrote this!!! (that's a lie, it's still stuck in my head). this has porn in it and i haven't written porn that wasn't fade to black in like 5 years so. be warned i guess lmao.
> 
> anyway just a general disclaimer, i wrote literally about 100% of this stoned so i'm sorry if it sucks or w/e lmfao also i've never shotgunned before so if this is inaccurate pls forgive me.
> 
> thanks to hannah and misha for looking over this for me!!! 
> 
> p.s. it was really fun writing a yuuri who was already (mostly) confident in himself! 
> 
> p.s.s. i'm sorry this isn't another dog park fic, but um, i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! lemme know what you think! <3

The thing is, Viktor asks him about it out of nowhere.

It's the off-season (thankfully -- as much as Yuuri loves skating, after the whirlwind that was last year, he needs a couple of months to process everything that has happened) so they spend most of their days in their apartment in Saint Petersburg. Sometimes they go out and explore the city, too. Today, though, Yuuri's curled up on the couch, watching Youtube videos on his phone while Viktor patters around in the kitchen.

It sounds like he's cleaning.

Yuuri's gone from watching cute animal videos to watching some about conspiracy theories. He's not even sure if he wants to know how that happened.

There's a noise from the kitchen that sounds suspiciously like Viktor squealing in delight, and before Yuuri can ask what's got his fiance so excited, the man himself is in front of him.

"Yuuri~" Viktor coos, "Look what I found!"

It takes a few moments for what Viktor's holding to come into focus, but when it does, Yuuri's cheeks flush.

"Why are you holding a bong?" Yuuri blurts.

"I thought I lost this forever," Viktor says, which doesn't help him out at all. "It's from my days of misspent youth."  

It's made of frosted glass with swirling designs that have Yuuri's eyes crossing. It's obviously old, and hasn't been cleaned in a while, but as far as glass work (he, admittedly, knows nothing about it) goes, it's beautiful.

"I -- that thing is yours?" He asks, confused.

It's not that Yuuri has a problem with it, exactly. Everyone has their vices, and Viktor's always made his taste for alcohol so obvious he's never once considered the man had dabbled in anything else. Then the image of Viktor's lips wrapped around a joint enters his mind, and he finds he has to blink against the onslaught.

Viktor has very nice lips.

"Don't act so shocked, myshka," Viktor laughs. He sits next to Yuuri on the couch. The bong is gingerly set on the coffee table in front of them before there's a hand on his chin and Viktor is gently guiding him to face him. "Have you never smoked before?"

"Once or twice," Yuuri admits.

"Oh?" Viktor asks, eyes widening in surprise.

As always, Yuuri's chest puffs in satisfaction.

"Yeah. I -- I was drunk, though. And it was only a few hits."

Admittedly, Yuuri's experience with anything other than alcohol is pretty slim. Hardcore drugs have always been out of the question. It was as much because of his career as a professional athlete as it was that he knew it was a bad idea for someone like him.

He tends to get a little wild when his inhibitions are lowered, and he's learned his lesson of drinking during the competitive season.

Sure, it had helped get Viktor's attention, but the amount of sultry and disgustingly intoxicated pictures of Yuuri all of his friends have saved on their phones truly keeps him up at night.

“Hmmm,” Viktor hums.

He looks like he’s contemplating something.

If there’s anything Yuuri’s learned in his time with Viktor, it’s that the look he’s wearing now isn’t always a good thing.

“You have that look on your face again,” Yuuri says, cautiously.

“What look?” Viktor asks, feigning innocence even though they both know exactly what Yuuri’s talking about.

“You know what look.”

Viktor stares at him for a few more minutes, serious and calculating. A few months ago Yuuri would’ve started stammering and curled in on himself in response, but now he only flushes red. A few seconds later, Viktor’s mask breaks and he leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth.

“Would you be up for trying it again?”

Yuuri blinks.

“What?”

“Smoking,” Viktor clarifies. Then he smiles so brightly Yuuri’s chest constricts around smoke. “Though, maybe without the alcohol this time.” He finishes with a wink.

Yuuri rolls his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed.

“As my coach, shouldn’t you be discouraging nefarious behavior?”

His concern only gets waved off. Yuuri can’t exactly name what it is he sees in Viktor’s eyes, but the look in them almost suggests he’s excited.

“It’s the off season,” Viktor points out, dismissive.

Yuuri bites on his bottom lip. Maybe there’s a chance Viktor wants to try this with him as much as he does. He might not have a lot of experience with it -- in Japan he only chose to focus on his skating, and despite all of the stereotypes of college in America, people were generally pretty cool about not wanting to smoke -- but it’s obvious Viktor does.

Yuuri wants to experience this with him, he realizes.

He wants to try.

When he looks up again, Viktor hasn’t stopped staring at him. Yuuri’s gotten used to it by this point. For some reason or another, Viktor always seems to be staring at him. And well… it’s not like Yuuri’s about to ask him to stop.

Not after everything they’ve done together. Plus being so blatantly wanted is _nice_.

“I’m not against it,” Yuuri tells him, instead of ‘ _Let’s do it right now_ ’ like he really wants to.

The rational part of his brain is telling him it’s not the smartest idea, even in the off season, but he trusts Viktor and he feels safe in their apartment. He doesn’t remember much of his encounters with it in college, but he does know the safer you feel the first couple of times, the better. Pretty much all of the time if you have anxiety like he does.

Yuuri’s heard the horror stories.

Viktor smiles.

“It’s up to you, Yuuri,” Viktor says, kissing him chastely on the lips.

Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck to prevent him from pulling away too soon, deepening the kiss. It’s been at least twenty minutes since they’ve last done this, and coincidentally, it’s also what he’s been thinking about.

It’s almost pathetic.

Viktor makes a surprised noise against his lips, but returns the pressure almost immediately. He’s filled with warmth, and he can’t help the smile that takes over his face, even though it’s a little awkward with their lips against each other’s. Viktor doesn’t seem to mind, just takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in his mouth.

“You’re insatiable,” Yuuri whispers.

“Mmm,” Viktor’s lips slide down his neck. “Do you blame me?”

“You know how I feel about that,” he answers. While his self-confidence has mostly improved, he still struggles with wrapping his head around deserving Viktor's attention on his bad days. Today's not a bad day, luckily.

Today is a good day. A very good one.

Yuuri likes to tease, is all.

“ _Yuuri~_ ” His fiance whines. It gets even more endearing every time he does it, which is troubling. “Don’t be mean to me.”

“Technically I was being mean to myself.”

Viktor pouts.

“It’s all the same to me, Yura.”

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat -- like it does every damn time Viktor says his name like that.

It’s his Achilles’ heel.

Yuuri has evolved plenty as a skater and as a person since Viktor showed up in Hasetsu all those months ago, but he’ll always be a sore loser, so Yuuri distracts him with another kiss.

 

 

\---

 

 

Yuuri forgets about the conversation a few days after that.

Even if their lives are remarkably more relaxed than usual right now, Viktor still insists they go out for a run every other morning. They also go to the rink a couple times a week so they can keep up with their training. And then there’s grocery shopping and paying bills and all the other things Yuuri forgot about in the height of his career.

It’s understandable that he forgets, really.

It is.

But, still. He should have remembered.

 

 

\---

 

 

When Yuuri comes back from walking Makkachin almost a week later, he unclasps the collar and leash as soon as the door is shut behind them. He hangs them both on a hook next to Viktor’s ridiculously expensive coats. Yuuri’s, which are equally as expensive and ridiculous, are on the other side.

Viktor had insisted on buying them when they first moved to Russia. It’s all terribly domestic, and every time he sees evidence of their lives blending together, his heart threatens to burst right through his chest.

Sometimes it thunders so loud he’s surprised Viktor can’t hear it.

Arms suddenly come around his waist, then, and he’s very proud of himself because he doesn’t tense up at the touch. Instead, he leans into Viktor. The other man’s practically a furnace at his back, and it’s comforting.

Despite being born for the ice, he’s always burned hotter than the sun.

Both figuratively and literally.

“I missed you,” Viktor purrs in his ear. Yuuri shudders. “You were gone so long~”

Yuuri snorts, fondly exasperated and painfully in love.

“I was gone for fifteen minutes, Viktor.”

“Fifteen long minutes that my heart yearned for yours,” he corrects Yuuri, dramatic as ever.

Yuuri can’t help but smile, genuine and wide and just for Viktor.

“I missed you, too,” he admits, voice soft.

Viktor paints dozens of kisses all over Yuuri’s face at his admission, cooing about how cute and precious Yuuri is while he does so. Only six months ago, this would’ve been too overwhelming to handle.

He’s come along way since then, thankfully.

They both have.

“Yura,” the other man whispers.

Yuuri shivers. He hopes it never stops feeling like the first time Viktor called him that.

“Yes?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Yuuri flushes to the tops of his ears, blazing a path across his cheeks as well. Viktor’s praise has always been like fine wine to him, a headiness that seeps into every last pore. He’s craved some sort of validation pretty much all of his life, but he absolutely flourishes under Viktor’s.

He has since the beginning.

“So are you,” Yuuri tells him.

Viktor knows that he’s beautiful, has probably always known. Even so, there’s a faint answering redness on Viktor’s cheeks that he hasn’t lost yet. The only praise that still makes him blush is Yuuri’s.

“I know, but we’re talking about you,” says Viktor, sounding far more amused than he should.

Yuuri snorts. “Ridiculous.”

“Probably.” Viktor pauses for a moment. “I got a delivery today.”

His eyes are sparkling again. Yuuri decides right then and there that he really doesn’t want to see next month’s credit card invoice.

“I told you to stop buying things online,” Yuuri tries to sound contrite, but his voice is far too fond.

“Not that kind of delivery, myshka,” Viktor corrects him around a smirk.

Oh.

“Oh. Today?”

Viktor makes an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. “We don’t have to do anything today if you’re not comfortable.”

“It’s not that. I don’t know--” He cuts himself off, licking his lips. His ears and cheeks are already turning red again at the mere thought of admitting something like this, which only adds to his mortification. What twenty-four year old doesn’t know how to use a bong? “I don’t know how to use a bong.”

“I already have that covered,” Viktor says. He nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck, placing a gentle kiss there.

“Do you now?”

“Mhm. I’m always prepared.”

Yuuri laughs in his face, unable to stop it. That’s a bold-faced lie, and they both know it. Viktor tries to look offended at this, but his mouth keeps twitching upwards and it kind of ruins it all. Only not really.

His fiance’s especially dangerous when he’s smiling.

“That’s you,” Yuuri teases, trying to ignore how his heart is racing simply because Viktor’s looking at him like that. “Always prepared.”

“It’s not very nice for you to make fun of me, Yura,” he pouts. Yuuri can feel it against his neck. “It’s going to end up giving me a complex, you know.”

“Mhm,” Yuuri hums, unconcerned.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” whines Viktor, against the column of his throat.

It sends shock waves up Yuuri’s spine, but he forces himself to ignore it. He even goes as far as to gently push Viktor’s face away from his skin.

“You’re being so mean lately~” he pouts. “I don’t know if I will ever recover.”

Yuuri stares at him impassively, but he does squeeze Viktor’s hand so he knows that Yuuri’s only joking. Viktor probably knows it anyway, but it’s been to be safe than sorry.

“You’ve said that before and recovered,” he points out.

Viktor whispers a kiss to the corner of his mouth, definitely hoping to butter him up.

It works.

“We can do it tonight, if you want,” Yuuri blurts out.

Viktor's mouth curls up at the corners.

"Are you sure?"

"I want to," Yuuri promises him. "I want to smoke."

 

“I promise to make it good for you, my Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, voice dipping low.

Two can play the game Yuuri’s started, apparently.

His flush is back like it never left in the first place, and he gently smacks Viktor’s (incredibly muscular -- wow, that never gets old, does it?) chest. “That makes it sound dirty.”

“Oh, I have so very much to teach you.”

“That makes it sound even _worse_!”

Viktor’s answering laughter is loud and melodious.

 

\---

 

They don’t talk about it again until they’ve settled down on the couch for the night.

It had been an unsurprisingly quiet evening.

Yuuri had his weekly call with his family back in Hasetsu -- he promised himself before he left for Russia that he would at least talk to his family and friends back home more -- and Viktor had been dancing around the house with his choreography notebook in hand. He was practicing bare foundations of routines for next season. It’s adorable. And also kind of amazing that the _Viktor Nikiforov_ has something as silly as a notebook entirely dedicated to every routine he’s done.

Somewhere in that notebook, was Yuuri’s Eros routine.

(He knows because Viktor lets him flip through it, and the first time he saw it he had stared at it dumbly for five minutes, running fingers over the surface of the page.)

They’re curled up on the couch, in one of the many blankets they keep there since it’s so cold. Yuuri’s on his phone, aimlessly scrolling through his social media even though there’s nothing remarkable being posted right now. It’s one of the downsides of having most of his friends scattered around the world.

He chances a glance at Viktor, who hasn’t moved since they both sat down, thighs pushing into one another.

“I’d like to try, now,” he says, making sure his voice stays clear and even.

Viktor looks at him then, and Yuuri can definitely tell -- this time, at least -- by the way his eyes are sparkling at his words that Viktor’s excited.

Yuuri almost feels cheated.

Of all of the meticulous interview scourging and of all the social media accounts Yuuri’s religiously stalked, it’s almost appalling that he hadn’t known Viktor felt so strongly about this.  

He supposes he shouldn’t feel so shocked. They are professional athletes.

“Alright,” Viktor whispers, and then he leans over to kiss over both of Yuuri’s cheeks, once, twice, three times before he pushes away. “Give me a few minutes.”

Yuuri’s still blushing from the feeling of Viktor’s lips on his cheeks, which is just ridiculous. They’ve been together for months now. They’re _engaged_. Yuuri doesn’t know why he’s still so bashful, but at least Viktor doesn’t seem to mind it.

If anything he seems to like it.

The prospect is a little too much for Yuuri to think about, most days.

He never thought someone would ever be able to love him this much. Especially not someone like Viktor.

“Okay,” Yuuri whispers back, watching him walk into their bedroom.

 

 

\---

 

 

Viktor comes out ten minutes later, holding a lighter and a couple of nicely rolled joints.

Yuuri’s familiar with joints, at least. It’s what he had smoked the couple of times back in college. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know how to tell Viktor they make him cough. A lot. So much so that one time Phichit had gotten so worried by the severity of it that he had almost _called_ someone.

It’s been a couple of years, though. Maybe things will be different now. It won’t hurt to try.

Hopefully.

“That took longer than expected,” Viktor greets, reclaiming his spot on the couch. “I guess I’m a little out of practice~”

Yuuri blinks. Viktor’s incredibly good -- gifted, even -- with his hands, and once again he’s distracted by the image of Viktor smoking. It’s a shame that he’s never given considerable thought to this before.

He wants to see it now more than anything.

“I am to surprise,” Viktor says, airily.

He can’t stop the snort that escapes him.

But then something dawns.

“Wait. What about Makkachin?” asks Yuuri, his eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t know much about how safe it is for animals to be around smoke, but either way it makes him uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry, Yura. Makka’s in the bedroom. There’s a tasty bone in there so he won’t wander,” he explains.

Yuuri relaxes, a little.

“Okay. That’s -- that’s good.”

“I know you want me to yourself all of the time,” The older man teases. “I don’t blame you.”

Yuuri narrowly resists the urge to shove him right off the couch. Viktor could be so damn _annoying_.

He (secretly) loves it.

“You’re the worst,” Yuuri mutters, but he’s smiling. His traitorous, absurd mouth.

“Convincing,” says Viktor, making it sound anything but. He sets one of the joints on the coffee table, and takes the other in one of his hands, pinching it in between his fingers.

Yuuri takes a deep, calming breath.

“Oh, by the way -- I, uh. I might cough a lot." He warns.

Viktor has the look on his face that spells out exactly how fond he is of Yuuri. The look sends his heart racing in anticipation. Yuuri doesn’t think he’s ever heard his blood roar in his ears so loud.

“That’s okay. Don’t pull too hard at first, okay? Ease into it.”

Yuuri nods. “Okay.”

Viktor kisses the corner of his mouth affectionately.

“Are you ready?”

He is. "Yes."

There’s the wet press of lips on both of his cheeks this time, and after he’s feeling steady enough to look at Viktor again, he catches him in time to see Viktor raise the lighter to the joint hanging out of his mouth.

Viktor’s lips are _divine_. Yuuri’s never seen lips so pretty before.

He may have a slight oral fixation.

A slight one.

Really, it isn’t even that distracting unless Viktor has something in his mouth. Seeing them wrapped around anything is arousing enough to make him start to sweat, a little bit.

Seeing Viktor’s lips wrapped around a joint, however, is like a revelation.

His cheeks and the tops of his ears are burning so brightly they almost hurt.

Smoke filters out of the sides of Viktor’s mouth when he speaks,

“You have to stop doing that,” Viktor tells him.

His voice is even more gravely than usual. It doesn’t even sound this deep after they’ve been intimate.

Yuuri wants to hear him recite the alphabet.

_All_ of them.

“Doing what?” Yuuri asks, heart pounding.

“Being so cute,” Viktor clarifies. He drops his eyes to make sure the joint is still burning before he passes it to Yuuri. He grasps at it with clumsy fingers.

Yuuri stares for a long moment, bringing the joint to his lips when he realizes he’s going to start wasting it. He wraps his lips around it -- the same place Viktor’s lips were moments ago, feeling giddy; he still can’t believe he gets to have this sometimes -- and inhales before he can talk himself out of it.

And he regrets it.

Immediately.

The coughing attack that hits him isn’t quite as bad as the one with Phichit back in college, but it comes pretty close. On the bright side, the lack of oxygen means he’s already feeling lightheaded and fuzzy. On the not so bright side, Viktor looks extremely worried. Cup of China levels of worry.

“Sorry,” Yuuri gasps out. The worst of it is over, thankfully. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad again.”

Viktor looks alarmed. “Again?”

His once slowly fading blush sears across his cheeks again.  

“Joints are really harsh,” Yuuri admits, lamely.

“I should’ve asked what you preferred,” Viktor sounds so apologetic Yuuri wants to cry a little. “I’m sorry, my Yuuri.”

“Don’t be silly, Viktor. It was only a minor coughing attack.”

Viktor gives him a flat look.

“You were almost purple.”

“You’re being silly,” Yuuri decides to inform him again, relaxing back against the cushions. “I want to try another one--”

“I have a better idea~” Viktor purrs, taking the joint from Yuuri’s fingers.

It happens so fast he doesn’t even have time to process what’s going on until the joint’s already in Viktor’s possession.

“We could try shotgunning,” he offers. “I think that’s what American’s call it, at least.”

Yuuri’s heard of it before, and the thought of intimately sharing smoke with Viktor has sends his pulse skyward.

“Okay,” Yuuri says quickly.

Viktor smirks at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Does that excite you, Yuuri?”

“Go away,” Yuuri mumbles, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

There’s a kiss to the corner of his mouth again. It sets off a bright fire burning over Yuuri’s entire body.

“Remember to inhale as I exhale, myshka.”

“I will,” Yuuri says.

The nervousness he was feeling earlier has melted away by now, all Yuuri can feel is the excitement dancing along his nerves. He wonders why they never talked about this before. It almost hurts to think Yuuri could’ve had this months ago.

Viktor smiles at him, bumping their knees together. He flicks the lighter, inhaling long and deep. The lines of his throat are shifting slightly and Yuuri finds it’s hard to tear his gaze away. There’s a tap on the inside of his wrist, and he looks up to see Viktor leaning forward, hands resting on Yuuri’s knees.

His face is expectant and unfairly beautiful. Yuuri shifts so he can meet him halfway, and opens his mouth.

This time, the smoke he inhales isn’t nearly as harsh, it practically glides down his throat. It’s heady; Yuuri feels hot all over and he’s not sure if it’s from the smoke in his lungs or the way Viktor’s hands are now bright pinpoints on his skin. Smoking’s never made him feel like this before, like he’s too _bright_.

It’s not entirely unpleasant.

He leans forward before he can stop himself to capture Viktor’s lips in a kiss, feeling emboldened by the warmth.

“ _Yuuri~_ ” Viktor croons against his mouth, pulling away slightly. “You’re quite keyed up.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologizes.

“Don’t be,” Viktor assures him. “Climb into my lap, Yura.”

Yuuri doesn’t question him and he crawls until he’s straddling his fiance’s thighs. Once he’s settled, Yuuri puts both of his hands on Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor’s smirking at him, eyes dark on Yuuri’s face.

“You’re wasting it,” Yuuri points out, even though he isn’t, really. He may or may not want to share smoke again.

That was nice.

“Patience, myshka,” Viktor murmurs, but he dutifully brings the joint to his lips so he can take another hit.

And Yuuri… Yuuri doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to this. There’s something intimate about sharing smoke with someone. It’s even more so when you’re sitting in their lap.

This time, Yuuri is the one who bridges the space between their lips. He slides his hands in Viktor's hair, silver sliding through his fingers like silk. The smoke is just as smooth, and Yuuri can't help the gasp that sends him coughing. It's almost too much, too  _hot_ ; Yuuri's chest feels like it's about to explode.

Viktor pulls away, probably to breathe, and Yuuri’s lips need to be in contact with something so he draws down to mouth at the line of his fiance's throat. His teeth scrape along his adam’s apple, just the way Yuuri knows he likes it. The noise Viktor makes in the back of his throat is easily the hottest noise he's ever heard. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor gasps. “We should’ve done this sooner.”

Yuuri snorts.

“You would have never let me smoke during the season, Vitya.”

Viktor shudders.

It’s incredible.

“You make an excellent point,” says Viktor, the lines of his mouth relaxed.

Yuuri makes a split second decision before he can even think about talking himself out of it. One of his hands reaches up to take the joint from Viktor’s grip so he can wrap his lips around it and take a hit. This is a bad idea. Yuuri was sent into a coughing attack the last time he tried this, and the look on Viktor’s face when it happened told him if he ever coughed like that again he’d probably rush him to the nearest hospital.

But. But. Yuuri’s feeling impulsive, and the strong curl of anxiety that never leaves him has faded into a background noise. It’s easy now to take control, to place the joint back in Viktor’s hands before looping his arms around his neck and breathing into his space.

Viktor’s eyes are wide and red, pupils so dilated he can only see a faint circle of blue. Yuuri’s hands are in his hair now, and Viktor is the one who finally presses their lips together after all of the smoke has left Yuuri’s lungs. The kiss is deeper than the ones that Yuuri initiated; hot and wet and Yuuri’s gasping against it, hands clenching around silver.

“Oh, god,” Yuuri whispers, and he’s floating.

“Yuuri, oh my god, Yura,” Viktor’s almost chanting softly. His voice is as deep as he’s ever heard it; sending shivers crawling up Yuuri’s spine. “That was so -- _wow_. But never do that again.”

Yuuri blinks, processing what Viktor’s trying to tell him. He’s always a little difficult to understand when he gets worked up, when his accent gets even thicker. When it sinks in, though, Yuuri smirks.

“Hmmm,” He hums.

Just to spite him, Yuuri takes the joint again to take another hit, eyes no doubt as dilated as Viktor’s. His fiance rolls his eyes at him, looking unbearably fond. The wrinkle between his forehead means that he’s worried, but he meets Yuuri’s lips halfway obediently, greedily stealing smoke.

The coughing attack he has right after is worth it.

 

 

\---

 

 

They put the joint out a few minutes later.

Yuuri doesn’t want to move from Viktor’s lap, so he doesn't. Yuuri's so comfortable he thinks he could fall asleep right now. He's never gone to bed high before and he can't help but wonder what it's like. Yuuri can only imagine the kind of dreams he would have. 

Maybe next time --  _if_ there's a next time -- he can try it. 

Currently, he doesn't want to fall asleep. Yuuri wants to experience every last moment.

“Comfortable?” Viktor rumbles.

He nods. He snuggles in closer, nuzzling under Viktor's chin. Yuuri's entire body feels fuzzy. Is that normal? Most likely, he wagers. 

“Mhm.” Yuuri answers, in lieu of entertaining that line of thought any longer. “You’re a great pillow.”

“That’s all I am to you?” Viktor teases.

“Yup,” he answers, quickly.

"Yura! I thought we would be past this by now," his fiance whines.

"You thought wrong."

" _Yuuri_."

Yuuri laughs, patting Viktor's chest in apology. "Kidding, kidding," he says, innocently.

Viktor pouts at him.

"You wound me so often," says Viktor dramatically.

Yuuri contemplates his words for a few moments, pretending to be deep in thought just to hear Viktor sniff before he reaches up to nibble at Viktor's throat. "Let me make it up to you."

"I'm not sure if you can~" Viktor teases. "The wound runs very deep, Yura."

Yuuri smiles at him.

They've had sex more than a few times, but Yuuri's initiated it far less than that. It's not for lack of wanting to do it or anything, it's just hard to turn his brain off. But, he doesn't feel that way anymore, which is nothing short of a minor miracle. That's his reasoning for why he brushes his hands pointedly across Viktor's hips. 

"Consider this my formal apology," whispers Yuuri, and he doesn't even have the urge to feel embarrassed about it. 

 

Yuuri meets Viktor's eyes again and he finds the other man to be staring at him in a daze, effectively speechless. Yuuri stays planted where he is, even now not willing to move without Viktor telling him this is what he wants. It takes Viktor a few moments to realize this, and he's smiling when he tells him to go ahead. 

Yuuri doesn't have to be told twice, he starts nibbling his way down, even though Viktor's wearing a t-shirt so it's not like he can feel much of this. But Yuuri can't bring himself to stop. He  _has_ to keep going. He's going to suck Viktor off and make him cry. 

Well, maybe not cry. 

Hopefully scream.

He'd like to hear that, Yuuri decides. It's something he can be mortified about later. 

He's settling in between the spread of Viktor's thighs within a couple of seconds, kneeling down so he can get closer. Yuuri's breath is wet and hot over his crotch.

It's not entirely purposeful, but the sounds Viktor makes -- high and wanting;  _deafening_ \-- has Yuuri mentally patting himself on the back.

"Shit," Viktor curses. 

Yuuri starts licking up the length of him through his boxers. He's felt urgency before, but it's never been like this. His body is tight and hotter than usual, and everything is so much. The touch of Viktor's fingertips across his cheek alone are like a brand. 

"So impatient today," Viktor tries to quip, breathless. His fingers are so gentle, touching Yuuri like he's something precious. 

This isn't entirely new, either. 

"I just want you," Yuuri admits plainly.

Surprisingly, Viktor's clenching his fingers in the sheets and choking on a gasp in response. Yuuri feels the strong sense of pride that rushes through him. He takes another look at Viktor, who looks utterly debauched and Yuuri hasn't even gotten his dick in his mouth yet. He's completely helpless against the spike of arousal that causes him to rut his hips against nothing.

Viktor notices, because of course. 

"Christ, Yuuri."

Yuuri smirks against him. He skips his fingers up Viktor's thighs, moving towards his waistband.  

"And you tease me about being the impatient one," he tuts.

"I want you, too, you know."

"Mmm. Flattery will get you everywhere," Yuuri mumbles, and it makes Viktor laugh.

"This was the best idea I've ever had," Viktor says, tone both playful and serious.

The tent in Viktor's boxers is both distracting and arousing, so he clicks his tongue absentmindedly, and Viktor obligingly lifts his hips. 

Yuuri hums, curling his fingers around his waistband and tugging them down the other man's thighs. He finds that he's extremely impatient and Yuuri wants him in his mouth already.

Viktor kicks his boxers off when they're around his ankles, and he spreads his legs a little wider, sliding down a couple of inches so Yuuri doesn't have to lean so far forward to get his mouth around him. It's an invitation if Yuuri's ever seen one, and it makes him smile. 

He's really impatient today. They both are, he supposes. 

However, Yuuri wants him  _panting_ for it. 

"You always have great ideas," he replies. He's had his fill of tracing the lines of Viktor's cock. 

Viktor's eyes start shining at him. "Are you trying to butter me up, myshka?" 

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Hmm," Viktor pretends to sound inquisitive. "I think I might need to collect more data. At least before I can make a decision." 

Yuuri chuckles.

"Okay."

He presses forward so he can kiss down Viktor's hips and inner thighs, making sure to dance around the place Viktor really wants him. Teasing Viktor, Yuuri finds, at least once he finally lets go of himself enough to enjoy it, is another high _entirely_. 

It makes him feel powerful.

"Yura," Viktor pants, eyes half-lidded and dilated beyond belief. "If only you could see how you look right now."

"You could take a picture, if you'd like," Yuuri shrugs. He's not kidding, either. 

They've done it before. He was surprised by how much he liked it, especially given his trademark shyness when it came to taking selfies. 

"You're going to  _kill_ me."

"I sure hope not," Yuuri grins at him, and promptly takes the head of his cock into his mouth. 

The moan that escapes Viktor's throat then sounds like it's punched out of him, and one of his hands grabs at the back of Yuuri's head, eager. When he presses back into it, Viktor falls out of his mouth so he leaves teasing, fluttering licks on Viktor's tip.

"Oh," Viktor says, dumbly.

“Speechless already?” Yuuri pulls away to ask, to be annoying more than anything.

He looks absolutely  heartbroken at the loss. “You didn’t have to _stop_.”

He (thankfully) bites back a laugh at how petulant and adorable Viktor looks right now. 

Yuuri's teased him enough, truthfully.  

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, and to show how truly  _regretful_ he feels, he swallows Viktor down in the next breath.

"That's--" Viktor gasps. "Playing dirty." 

"Mhm," Yuuri hums, hallowing his cheeks out on the upstroke like Viktor taught him the first time Yuuri tried going down on him. 

It wasn't disastrous or anything, but he's definitely more skilled now. 

He also enjoys it a lot more, too. Knowing that he has this effect on Viktor, because of intimate touches from  _Yuuri's_ hands, his mouth... it's too much sometimes. 

Viktor's hands run through his hair gently, and it's only then that Yuuri realizes he's paused with a dick halfway down his throat. 

All of the blood his body can spare splatters across Yuuri's cheeks. He deals with it by humming around his mouthful, hallowing out his cheeks suddenly. 

" _Ah_. You never fail to surprise me," Viktor gasps out. 

He's way too coherent, Yuuri thinks to himself.

Once he comes back up, he licks at the slit. He doesn't want to give Viktor a chance to  _think_ after that. He's managed to pull himself out of his head this time, which means he can focus all of his attention on Viktor. He deep-throats him again, taking advantage of his lack of gag reflex. 

The look on Viktor's face when Yuuri deep throated him on his first try is one he'll never forget. 

Viktor makes a wounded noise, throwing his head back to bare the long line of his throat. It's tempting. It really is. A part of him wants to sneak back up there and thoroughly pay attention to all of Viktor's sensitive spots, but Yuuri sort of loves giving head.

Even when he's sober.

Viktor's so _responsive_ , begging and thanking Yuuri in equal measures, showering him with praise when he gets shaky or unsure. Making him feel safe. He looks beautiful too, all pale skin and long thighs and stupidly pretty dick. Yuuri's never found them particularly attractive before. 

Viktor's though? 

Yuuri doesn't even have words. 

He relaxes his throat even more, and clenches his hands around the meat of Viktor's thighs. It's silent permission for Viktor to start thrusting his hips, which he does almost immediately. 

They both love it when Viktor fucks his face. 

"Oh,  _Yura~"_ Viktor groans. "So pretty, taking my dick like this. Beautiful, letting me fuck your face."

He's rambling now, incoherent strings of sentences filled with praise and half-bitten off Russian words. It means Viktor's close, that he's riding the line of release, and Yuuri wants him to come more than anything. 

Well, there's one thing he wants more. 

There's a loud 'pop' when Yuuri pulls off of Viktor's length, dirty and piercing between them. 

"Vitya," Yuuri starts. It doesn't sound like his voice. 

Viktor whines, whether from the sound of Yuuri's voice, or the nickname, he isn't sure. 

"Vitya, I want you to come on my face." 

"Oh my god," This time the noise Viktor makes sounds like he's dying. "I'm dying." 

Yuuri snorts, wrapping one of his hands around the base of Viktor's shaft, and curls his free one in Viktor's own. "Mhm. Die by coming on my face, please."

"Ruthless," Viktor says around a hiss, and it only takes a couple of perfectly timed squeezes for him to come across Yuuri's face.  

He closes his eyes right in time, feeling his eyelashes get sticky. Viktor's come is warm across his entire face, and Yuuri should probably feel dirty but all he feels is  _satisfied_. The awkardness of voicing what he wants doesn't even begin to taint how great it feels to actually do it. 

Good to know.

Yuuri will have to remember that, later. 

He licks off as much as he can reach, tonguing around his mouth and chin. Viktor's taste isn't exactly pleasant, but Yuuri likes it all the same. It's undeniably, well, Viktor. 

"I'm certain I'm dead," Viktor mumbles after a few moments. 

"Seem pretty alive to me," Yuuri says, dryly. He crawls up into the older man's lap. His dick's so hard and he's craving friction.

"So perfect, myshka," Viktor mumbles. He uses his shirt to wipe off Yuuri's face, eyes dark and cock twitching against Yuuri's thigh despite just getting off. 

"Mmm. Debatable." 

Yuuri thrusts his aching erection against Viktor's hips, trying to find the right angle. 

"Let me help you with that," he purrs.

" _Please._ "

Viktor smiles at him. "Of course, Yura." 

He takes Yuuri's boxers off first, wrapping a hand around Yuuri's length once they're pushed down around his thighs. He doesn't care that they're not all the way off, if he's being honest. The only thing he can think about is coming. 

It _hurts._  

"Yes, yes, yes," Yuuri bites out. "Faster." 

Viktor dutifully increases his pace, and Yuuri's pleasure mounts at a previously unreachable height. The floating sensation is back; Yuuri feels like he's resting on clouds. 

"Come for me, Yuuri," Viktor whispers in his ear, sliding his mouth down to nibble at his earlobe. "I want to hear you."

He starts twisting his hand once he reaches Yuuri's tip on every stroke. Yuuri moans, louder than he's ever allowed himself to sound. He spares it no second thought, and chases after his orgasm, shakily meeting every one of Viktor's touches. 

It doesn't take long after that. He loses track of how many more thrusts it takes him to come, but when he finally does his orgasm has his vision whiting out. The feeling is so intense he gets swept up in it a bit. The strength of it all rips right through him, leaving euphoria and a sense of bafflement in it's wake. 

Did that really happen?

By the time he comes back to himself, Viktor's completely naked and is running his now soiled shirt along Yuuri's belly. 

"Back to the land of the living?" Viktor asks, smirking, though his eyes are worried. 

"Shut up," Yuuri grumbles, and now that his blood isn't preoccupied, it gathers in his cheeks. 

It gives him a head rush. 

"I should've warned you," Viktor muses. "Orgasms while high are quite intense, no?"

Yuuri buries his face in Viktor's chest so he doesn't have to look at him. 

Now that the haze has lifted a bit -- though he's still feeling more than a little tingly -- he feels a bit sheepish. 

So, he actually did all of that then.

Wonderful.

"I can't believe we did that."

Viktor laughs. "Don't feel shy now, myshka. I enjoyed it very much. Did you?"

He bites his lip. 

"More than," he corrects him. "I hope we can do it again."

His fiance  _beams_ at him. 

"Oh, Yura. We'll smoke as often as you'd like... in the off season, of course." 

Yuuri smiles. 

"Of course."

They sit in companionable silence for several minutes, enjoying each other's company and post-coital bliss. It doesn't take long for Yuuri to start drifting off, coming down from the thrill and feeling so exhausted he doesn't think he can move if he tries. 

"We should get you to bed before you pass out on the couch," Viktor says into his ear. 

"Don't wanna move," Yuuri complains, groggily. "Jelly legs." 

There's a tender kiss to his forehead. "Then I'll just have to carry you."

Yuuri wraps himself even tighter around Viktor, knowing that trying to fight him is pointless. 

"Take me to bed," he finds the strength to say, low and sultry. 

Viktor almost drops him. 

"Killing me," Viktor reminds him sullenly.

Yuuri kisses his neck, twice. "I'll always put you back together."

It's probably his imagination, but he swears he hears Viktor's heart skip a beat. 

"That's my Yuuri," he says affectionately. 

"Anything for you, Vitya," says Yuuri, when they're in their bedroom. "Love you." 

He vaguely hears an "I love you, too," as he's set down on the bed, and the last thing Yuuri thinks before he falls asleep is how beautiful Viktor looks with the moon shining on his face. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SO THAT HAPPENED! 
> 
> feel free to check me out on [tumblr](http://www.saintvitya.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/vnikiforv) or both! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!!! ♥
> 
> p.s. if u made it thru that and lived i have a whole new level of respect for u. just sayin.


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